we live in a phase to be written down in history,
where people needed humanity;
the eyes to see,
the ears to listen,
the mind to think,
the lips to encourage,
the hand to kindly give,
and the heart to burst with love.
where people take lesser things for granted;
a soul tap with nature,
a coffee with a good friend,
an affection from a loved one,
a moment that easily passes by if not lived.

bittersweet neoteric epiphanies,
gliding through my skin like a cold sheet of memories,
as fond as it is for my isolated soul,
they felt so new, so raw, that I hope on the aftermath
pride and prejudice steps aside for humanity to make us whole.

IA

it is never too human to love,
for it is beyond human to let love
conquer the unconquerable things.

IA

never spit and dance
on the graveyard of a sheep,
who knows if it is an old clothing
of a wolf on watch.

IA

the rain pours outside
as I watch by my window,
stuck in chaos' calm.

IA

she’s too strong,
she’s too much,
she’s too tough to love.

she’s too hard,
she’s too broken,
she’s not enough.

she’s imperfect,
she’s wild,
she’s lost in the wind.
she’s insane,
sending signs of chaos from within.
-

people possess three things in life:
a shield, a heart, and a dagger

a shield for the logic,
a heart for the soul,
a dagger forged by the strength of emotion,
unbeknownst to many about its origin.

people used these three things,
a dagger to protect oneself from this cruel world,
a heart to beat its rhythm of existence,
and a shield to ward off the weapon from wounding and distorting a heart.

why do we need a dagger?
it takes two to tango,
it takes chaos to begin chaos.

people wander relentlessly,
breathing, and existing and loving,
until a dagger pierces through,
leaving an open wound,
and a weapon sharpened.

little do we know,
the closer the proximity,
the more ideal love gets,
the lesser we see it coming,
the lesser we forget,
a shield is used to protect a soft, beating creature.

from an open wound,
and sharp weapon,
the cycle of chaos arise,
few people heal,
multifolds stab another heart,
"perhaps there will always be another heart to break."

one polished its shield very well;
the logic and knowledge
choked a heart to non-existence,
there was nothing left to stab,
there was nothing left to feel.

one stood with a wooden shield,
a state of balance within,
of calm and chaos and fear
to wound and lose its heart,
and be forced to survive with a dagger.

the pandemic goes on,
perhaps only until the daggers cease to exist,
soft creatures cannot battle with a heartless one,
it can only tame a while, until it becomes distorted and heartless too.

the pandemic weakens
when a wounded heart heals,
not because of the shield,
not because of time itself,
but because it's a wonder: some hearts can never be irreparably broken.

IA